"Where's my bier? Where's my bier? Is a gentleman to be kept waiting all night for his bier?" he exclaimed, with mock impatience.
They lifted him on to a stretcher, and began to push it through the open window into the street.
"Farewell, Ophelia!" he cried to the Sister, as his head disappeared.
He was too drunk to feel afraid.
They carried him into the room that had been turned into a theatre. He found that the same young Doctor was to operate on him. He was alarmed at his youth.
"I like a fellow to have white hair if he's to operate on me," he said to himself.
Another Doctor began to adjust the ether apparatus.
"Look here," he mumbled, "how do you know my heart's strong enough for this sort of thing?"
"Don't be a fool; it's your only chance."
"Oh, all right. Have it your own way, only don't say I did not warn you!" he replied.